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The Brickdust Man

Introduction

The Brickdust Man and The Grenadier belong to a group of short 'musical dialogues' written by Dibdin in the 1770s for Sadler's Wells, then a summer resort outside London. Spoken plays were also forbidden at Sadler's Wells which specialised at the time in popular variety shows with dancing, conjuring, songs and aquatic displays designed to appeal to a middle-class audience. So they have recitative rather than dialogue, and in them the world of the commedia dell'arte is transformed into contemporary London. The scene of The Brickdust Man is a street in the West End of London, then a fashionable residential area. There are references to St Giles's Church (near the present Tottenham Court Road tube station) and Tyburn Road (now Oxford Street). It concerns John, a street trader who sells powdered brick (used as a scourer, for making rouge, and for several other purposes) and Molly, a milkmaid. They believe each other to have been unfaithful, and after Molly has sung a rage aria (another parody of the opera seria type), they are reconciled in a gentle and melodious duet.

John: I am a lad, by fortune's spight, Condemned to trudge from morn till night. Through streets and squares and lanes I pass, My riches all on one poor ass. Gee ho, then Jack! for on thou must! Come maids and buy brickdust! Brickdust! Oh, if my hopes they now should bilk, Buy brickdust, brickdust, ho!

John: Oh, Molly, I'm charmed when I come in your sight, Your neck than your milk is more soft and more white. And the pails that you carry, though both made of tin, Are less bright than your eyes and less smooth than your skin. Both your trade and mine in your person I see: Your lips and your cheeks with my brickdust agree. So red is their colour — but oh! to my smart, No brickbat was ever so hard as your heart!

Molly: Think not, base monkey, to cajole me so, When at St Giles's church, full well you know, Our banns were called above three months ago. And if so be as how We are not married now, That was my fault, can you say? Willing as the flowers in May! What brought I this brass ring for, pray? You came dressed out upon the day! I too was dressed — a silly toad! But, frightened at the man in black, At the church door you turned your back, And ran away down Tyburn Road.

Air (Allegro): Get you gone, you nasty fellow! You could hear me scream and bellow, Yet return not to my cries. You could leave me to the slanders, Taunts and slurs of the bystanders. Oh! I could tear out your eyes.

John: Moll, here's my hand; lay hold on't if you dare! And now I will expose this 'ere affair.

Air (Andantino): In short, dearest Moll, you alone were in fault: Ill tongues put it into my head you were naught. With Darby O'Shannon I heard you were seen At the Three Jolly Topers on Bethnal Green. And could I in honour accept of a heart Where a great Irish chairman laid claim to a part?

Molly: Lord, John, as for that, you have no right to talk. With Betty MacGregor you oft took a walk, And at the Red Lion you did not much think To treat her with hotpot as long as she'd drink. You may coax me and turn the thing off with a laugh, But I'll give her the whole since the hussy has half.

John: One day, having gotten a sup in my eye, I frolicked with Betty, I cannot deny; But if ever I touch her again, may I die.

Molly: And if with O'Shannon I went (put the case), I was tipsy myself; but the very next place I meet him, I'll give him a slap in the face.